Red Violin
by RaritajiGolden
Summary: (Chapter 3 uploaded!) Quatre Winner is a beautiful soul. He is loving, motherly, and helpful. So what could have driven him to kill a man? Stress? Pain? Anger? Or something else completely unthinkable?
1. The Killing

His face was twisted with anger as the knife came down. It tore into the flesh beneath him, sucking grossly as it was withdrawn, only to plunge back within the chest cavity again.and again.and again. His mouth opened. He wanted to say something, but all that came out was a scream. There seemed to be no end to the scream, and it just went on. To him, it was an eternity. To the victim, it was over.  
  
Reality crashed down upon him, and he choked on his own breath. His lips parted, then closed again, and he blinked, looking down at the horror drawn on the face below. Tears welled in his eyes, the liquid hanging there for a moment before dribbling down his cheeks in steady streams. He sniffled once, then pushed himself away from the body and got to his feet. Now, he simply stood there, staring down at once living flesh. His chest began to tighten, and sobs bubbled past his lips, his left hand reaching toward the corpse.  
  
"Allah..what have I done..?" His voice was ragged and choked, a hoarse whisper that could only belong to the damned. Was he damned? "Yes.."  
  
He was rooted to the spot. He couldn't move, his body paralysed. After a few deep breaths, he found he could move again, and with a shriek, he launched himself at the man he had just killed. He drove the knife into him, slicing furiously at the body until it was mangled. It didn't look like a body anymore, but some child's sick version of road kill.  
  
"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! I..I...I hate.you."  
  
He was mad. He must be. What else would have made him do this?  
  
"I."He swallowed hard, audibly, leaning on the knife handle and looking into those vacant eyes. "Hate..you..but your eyes.are lovely.and big.yeah.."  
  
He giggled slightly, then tipped his head back and howled with laughter. The sound wasn't happy. It was glass shattering over a hard concrete floor, the laugh of a man gone mad. Straddling his victim, he draw his knees almost to his chest and began rocking back and forth, muttering nonsense to himself. His eyes were glazed and unseeing, and his voice was high-pitched, breathless.  
  
"Quatre Raberba Winner. Quatre Raberba Winner. Quatre Raberba Winner. I am Quatre Raberba Winner..Quatre..I am Quatre..no I'm not. I'm a killer. I'm a fox, I'm a hound, I'm a tiger, I'm a mad man..mad.man? No." Sweat and tears mixed together as they poured down his face. Soon, he stood again after spotting a well taken care of violin on the floor. He walked to it and picked it up, ruining the wood as the blood seeped into it and stained it forever red. Quatre picked up the bow as well, then walks to the couch and sat down. Closing his eyes, he placed the violin under his chin and closed his tortured eyes. He lifted the bow and drew it gently across the strings. A smile brushed over his lips, and then he began to play, losing himself in the music.  
  
Quatre walked home that night. It was far away from the dead man's house, but the fresh air was beginning to bring the Arabic boy back to his senses. He had killed someone. Now he had to figure out why. Was it the stress finally overcoming him, the horror of the war even though it had ended many years ago? Or was he truly going mad, slowly, bit by bit?  
  
"I have to find out why," Quatre said, talking quietly to himself as he turned off the main street and headed down a smaller one. "What is happening to me? What made me do this?" Tear welled in his eyes, and he clutched the violin tighter to his chest, which he had taken from the murder scene because it had his fingerprints on it. The knife was in a sheath that was attached to his waist by a leather belt.  
  
"Hey pretty boy! Over here!"  
  
Quatre's blond head whipped up and around at the sound of the voice. Two large men were walking toward him. Each held a large pipe in their hands.  
  
Allah, no.don't make me kill again. PLEASE. I will do anything!  
  
He let out a ragged sob, then turned and ran, moving his legs as quickly as he could. He didn't want to kill again. Once was already too much for him to handle. He kept the violin and the bow close to him as he bolted down the street. The hard slap of the men's feet behind him drove him on ever faster, his breaths wheezing as he drew air into his tired lungs. They were gaining on him, though. He could hear the footsteps getting louder as they drew closer and closer.  
  
"NO! LEAVE ME ALONE!" He yelled, whirling around and drawing the bloodstained knife from its sheath. He waved it at the men, who stopped and cried out in horror. "Do you want to be next?!! DO YOU?"  
  
The men looked at each other, then turned and ran the other way, back tracking in a hurry. Quatre breathed deeply, then turned and started walking again. He could hardly put one foot in front of the other. His body was so overwhelmed with grief and horror that he couldn't believe he was capable of going on.  
  
With no further trouble, Quatre made it home safe and in one piece. That couldn't be said about his mind, however. Inside his head, the ex gundam pilot was in terrible pain. He had accepted what he had done, but his brain was in pieces. He couldn't think properly, and when he thought at all, he didn't understand anything.  
  
"I'm broken."Quatre whimpered softly. "I'm not.not me anymore." 


	2. The Confession

Quatre washed his hands. He didn't stop. By this time, all the blood had been scrubbed off, but the blond wasn't satisfied. His wide blue eyes could still see the scarlet staining his skin. They could see it dripping into the red water of the sink. In fact, it was only water that was dripping off of Quatre's hands, but he was delirious, and so saw only what he wanted to see. He saw only what his mind refused to let go.  
  
"No," Quatre gasped. "Get off me, get off me, GET OFF ME!!!!" He leapt back from the sink, screaming uncontrollably and waving his hands frantically. He was trying to get the blood off, all of it. But there was nothing there, so his efforts were useless.  
  
He tumbled back into the door and cried out in pain before sinking to his knees. He whimpered softly, and held his hands out in front of him, his wide and dilated eyes never leaving the quivering flesh before him.  
  
"I SAID GET OFF!!!" Sobs wracked his body, and he curled up, crying and shaking "Oh, Allah.help me.Allah..I need you."  
  
Quatre fell asleep like that, his knees curled up to his chest, his arms limp at his sides, and his head lolling back against the door. And he stayed that way, sleeping as though he had never slept before, until something woke him up.  
  
"Q-man? Buddy? Yo, wake up," a small voice whispered.  
  
"Hmm?" was Quatre's only reply as he let his head fall, his chin almost touching his chest.  
  
"Heeeelooooooo? Quatre!"  
  
Quatre heard his name, and his eyes snapped open. When he saw a face gazing down at him, he yelped and curled his knees up tighter. "Don't touch me! Don't touch me! Don't touch me! NO!"  
  
Duo Maxwell leaped backward, his violet eyes snapping open wide. "Whoa! Quatre? Are you okay?"  
  
Breathless, Quatre looked up at Duo. "Get out of here before I kill you! Get out of here!!"  
  
Duo stared stupidly at Quatre. Indeed, he did feel stupid. Very stupid in fact. What could have gotten Quatre all messed up like this? Well, the answer was beyond him.  
  
"Um..okay..Quatre, I need you to calm down, and tell me what happened. Please, just do this for me, okay?"  
  
"No, no, no, no, no, NO, NO, NO! GET OUT! Big bad monster, coming to KILL YOU! GET OUT!"  
  
Duo's jaw dropped, and he stared at Quatre. "God, Quatre, what happened? Please tell me!"  
  
"Killer..murdered.psycho..I did it.I did it, you hear? HAH, I did it!"  
  
"You.Quatre, come on, what is going on?"  
  
Getting a hold of himself, at least for the moment, he looked up at Duo with tear filled eyes. His voice lowered, becoming a hoarse whisper. "I did it.I killed him."  
  
Duo's mind riffled through all the information he had gotten this morning. Murder. God."Quatre..you.did that?"  
  
Quatre whimpered, then crawled over to Duo and gripped his pants, just above his knees. He laid his head on the braided boy's left leg and sobbed, blubbering words that made absolutely no sense except to Quatre.  
  
"Please kill me," he whispered, the voice so soft that Duo could hardly hear it.  
  
"No.no Quatre, I won't kill you. Come on, we have to goto the police"  
  
"NO! GET AWAY FROM ME!" Screaming and choking on his sobs, Quatre leapt to his feet and ran out the door, staggering badly before falling in a heap near the staircase that led down to the main doors. There, he began to crawl toward the stairs. His progress was slow, as his body was shaking so horribly. It was a wonder that he could even move at all.  
  
Duo opened his mouth, then snapped it shut and ran after Quatre. When he reached him, he knelt down and stroked a bit of hair from the Arabian's face, his huge eyes pleading. "Q, come on, come on, baby, I need you to come through for me, you can't go on like this, PLEASE."  
  
Quatre sniffled softly, then stopped his slow journey to the stairs. "Duo.?"  
  
Duo nodded. "Yeah, buddy. It's me. You know me. Duo Maxwell, I'm your best friend. I'm here to help you out, okay? First you gotta get up. Can you do that for an old pal?"  
  
Quatre nodded slightly, then, as Duo offered his right hand, took that and used it to help him stand. When he was up, Quatre trained tortured eyes on Duo. Duo quickly wiped away his tears, then stepped forward and wrapped his arms gently around Quatre, hugging him. Quatre laid his left cheek on Duo's shoulder and hugged him back tight, glad to have someone to hold onto other than himself.  
  
"What do I do?" Quatre whispered.  
  
"Sshhh..Quatre, buddy, you just gotta stay strong, okay? I need you. We all need you, okay? Just get through this."  
  
"WHY? WHY DID I KILL HIM?!" Sobbing, Quatre buried his face in Duo's chest. "I didn't want to do it, I swear..I didn't.I could never.why? I don't understand!"  
  
Duo gently rubbed Quatre's back, his own eyes shimmering with tears of their own. Quatre needed help, and badly. The braided boy didn't understand any of this, either, but he knew that Quatre had to come through or he would be doomed. True, the blond would be carrying the weight of this his entire life, but he had killed, too. Heero had, and Wufei, and Trowa. They had all taken innocent lives when they had been in the war. However, accidents happened all the time in the war, and sometimes there was nothing you could do to stop it. But here, now, when Quatre was 20 years old, many years after the war, he had killed again. And it seemed he had killed for absolutely no reason. It just didn't make any sense to Duo.  
  
"We'll figure it out, okay Q? We'll figure it out together. You trust me, don't you?"  
  
Quatre nodded and said, "Yes, I trust you, Duo. I know you would never try to hurt me."  
  
"Yeah, that's right, man. Never. We'll always be here for one another..always." 


	3. The Runaway

Heero Yuy slammed the door in Chang Wufei's face. He was agitated, and deeply so. Last  
  
night Duo Maxwell had said something about Quatre that had made his skin crawl. Murderer. No,  
  
that couldn't be it, Duo hadn't got his facts straight. Yeah, that was it. Quatre Winner wasn't a  
  
killer.  
  
There was a light bang as Wufei caught the door in the chest. The Chinese boy gave an  
  
enraged cry, then shoved the door open. He strode with great purpose, or so it seemed to him, up  
  
to Heero and snarled.  
  
"Yuy, if you shut me out ONE more, time, it's katana time!!"  
  
Heero stared into Wufei's seething eyes, looking bored. Then he said, in his classic monotone,  
  
"Quatre needs our help. Come on."  
  
Wufei almost snapped at him, or maybe it was a threat. Either way, he stopped himself with  
  
the realization that Quatre, however fussy, was in dire need, and they had been chosen to help.  
  
Chosen by Duo that is, which wasn't always a very good thing.  
  
Heero gave him a nod, then prowled to the front door and opened it. He stepped out, slamming  
  
it shut like he always did. The mechanical ex gundam pilot had never had the greatest manners.  
  
Wufei, having learned his lesson well after the last hundred or so times, just lingered near the  
  
door until it shut. Nearly in a huff, he opened the door next and went after Heero, but after he  
  
closed it and locked it securely.  
  
"Yuy, are all the windows and doors locked in the house?" Asked the black haired teenager as  
  
he caught up with his friend.  
  
There was no answer. As they both piled into the dark blue truck, Heero in the driver's seat,  
  
Wufei had an urge to punch the Japanese boy. Why he never answered simple questions that  
  
required no more than two words he would never know.  
  
Must be the damn chemicals, they always did mess with his head, Wufei thought irritably.  
  
  
  
As Quatre sipped his tea, Duo watched over him uneasily. The blond looked better, but Duo  
  
wasn't convinced. He figited a little and bit down on his lower lip.  
  
"Quatre?"  
  
Quatre turned hazy, worn blue eyes on Duo and waited.  
  
"Um. Are you okay?" Stupid, stupid! Of course he isn't okay, he killed someone!  
  
"Yes, thank you, Duo"  
  
Despite the words, Duo knew that Quatre was lying. No one could be okay after killing  
  
someone, not even if they had to. Or maybe he was wrong. Maybe Quatre felt nothing, maybe  
  
he-Duo, shut it with the babble! Yeesh, you'd think I did nothing but talk all day or something.  
  
There was a soft noise as Quatre set his unfinished tea on the table. Duo blinked, then stared at  
  
him, biting back numerous shocked comments, such as, 'Quatre, you always finish your tea!'  
  
"You finished, Q-man?"  
  
The other gave a slight nod, staring at the quickly cooling tea. Duo felt his heart breaking,  
  
shattering, ripping. The sorrow in the Arabian's eyes was too much for Duo to bear. He couldn't  
  
take this anymore, there was no way. Quatre was going to be helped! Duo almost got up to call  
  
the two Asians, but he didn't, as they were probably really upset right now anyway. He fingered  
  
the phone, then yelped as a tea cup, and its liquid contents, smashed onto the floor near his feet.  
  
Tea splattered over him, warm liquid, but he didn't care. He looked over at Quatre just in time to  
  
see the most venomous look he had ever seen. It was such that it rivalled the hissing roar of  
  
molten metal, hot, deadly, blazing. A shiver ran through Duo's body, and he didn't dare move,  
  
not with his normally sweet friend looking like that.  
  
"Uuhhh.Q? Could you, ah..tone that look down?? You're scarin' me, man"  
  
Quatre bowed his head, tears squeezing through now closed eyes. Although he tried to stop it,  
  
a wrenching sob burst past his lips, tearing through his throat. He couldn't stand anymore, and his  
  
legs, they wobbled and shook. Quatre put his hands on the table to steady himself, but it did no  
  
good. He slipped backward and landed with a cry, but not because he hurt himself. Sobbing now,  
  
screaming, howling, and whimpering, Quatre curled himself into a ball and just lay there  
  
quivering, a beaten and abused child. Beaten and abused, yes. By himself. He was the one who  
  
murdered that man. Not being able to remember why hurt almost as much as knowing that he did  
  
it, and it was killing him. The reality, the truth of the situation was slowly rubbing him raw,  
  
acting like some horrid flesh eating disease. Chunks were torn in strips from his soul, never to  
  
return again. He was never going to survive this, and right now he didn't want to. He wanted to  
  
die. Yes, he was ready to go now, and he wanted no delay.  
  
Duo was at Quatre's side immedietly, forgetting about the phone. He wouldn't have called,  
  
anyway, as Wufei probably would have yelled at him for being impatient or something. Kneeling,  
  
he reached out and stroked Quatre's hair. The other lashed out like a cornered cat, short nails  
  
dragging across the top of the American's right forearm. Duo gave a yell and fell back, clutching  
  
his wounded arm to his chest. Tears began a gentle flow down his cheeks as he looked at his  
  
ruined friend.  
  
"Quatre, please. I just want to help, okay? Please let me."  
  
Quatre gave a snarl, then leaped to his feet and bolted for the door. Eyes growing wide, Duo  
  
scrambled up and took off after him.  
  
"Quatre, NO! Come back, you have to, you're going to get help!"  
  
As Quatre barged through the front door with renewed strength, adrenaline rushed through  
  
him, a raging river of strength. A blue pickup truck pulled out in front of the house, but he paid it  
  
no attention, not even when he recognised the grim faces of Heero and Wufei. Duo tripped out  
  
the door and went sprawling onto his face, also spotting the two Asians.  
  
"WUFEI, HEERO!!! Get Quatre, he's going to get himself killed!"  
  
Heero was first out of the truck, as Wufei took the time to quickly turn it off. Then they were  
  
both off, charging after Quatre, their feet flying. Duo remained on the ground, watching after  
  
them with horrified eyes. What if they didn't catch him? What would become of the tortured  
  
Arabian? 


End file.
